The New Boys at Oakdale Part 20

This was true. The houses down the road were the scattering ones upon the outskirts of the village.

Sickened by this discovery, Shultz remained some moments in doubt and uncertainty. Here and there he could see lights in the windows of the houses. All Oakdale seemed awake. The bells had aroused the village, and everywhere posses of men were searching. Should he attempt to follow along the edge of the woods and pa.s.s round Turkey Hill to the south, it would bring him dangerously near town.

"My only safety lies in the woods until I can get farther away," he decided. "I can get through them all right if I keep my head. With the moon on my back, the shadows will guide me. I can get my bearings in every little open s.p.a.ce. I'll do it."

Setting his teeth, he turned about and again plunged into the timber.

Precious time had been lost through his blunder, but now, he told himself, he would master his fears and make no false steps.

In time he came to an opening in the midst of the woods, where the moonlight fell upon the cleared ground. Half-way across this opening dread of the gloom at the far side made him falter. Again he was oppressed by the conviction that something terrible and uncanny had followed him in all his flight. Again he could feel it drawing nearer and nearer. Something like the sound of soft footsteps caused his heart to choke him, and, turning, he saw it coming.

In the shadows an object advanced. It was like a human body, white from the waist upward, and this white portion, which he could plainly see, seemed to float in the air.

But when the shadows were pa.s.sed and it stepped forth into the moonlight, he perceived that the body was supported by legs encased in dark trousers. The moonlight revealed more than that. He was looking into the face of Roy Hooker! Even as Roy's eyes had stared at him through the window of his chamber, they were now fastened upon him.

Above those staring eyes, the turban-like bandage of white still encircled Hooker's head.

"Hooker!" groaned Shultz. "Oh, Hooker, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it!"

The figure halted ten feet away. A hand was uplifted and extended accusingly. A voice-the voice of Hooker-demanded:

"Shultz, where did that other ace come from?"

The words sounded in a low, monotonous, dead-level tone. To Shultz, the voice seemed hollow and lifeless, like the voice of the dead.

He could not answer, but, flinging off the benumbing spell that had chained him in his tracks, he whirled and fled again. Through the woods he crashed and plunged like mad, almost blind with terror. Again and again he half collided with trees. Vines and low branches tripped him.

Falling, he scrambled up and ran on, absolutely heedless of what course he followed.

In this manner he plunged at last into a deep gully. As he fell he tried to leap, and down he went in an upright position. When he struck the bottom, one foot twisted beneath him, and he dropped in a heap. A pain shot through his leg.

Getting his breath after the shock, he started to rise; but the moment he tried to bear his weight on his right foot the pain jabbed him frightfully, and he toppled over.

"My leg is broken!" he sobbed. "Now I'm done for, sure!"

CHAPTER XX

THE SEARCH.

In the midst of troublesome dreams, Ned Osgood, half-awake, fancied he heard hail beating against the windows of his sitting room. Fully awake at last, he lifted his head from the pillow and listened; but, hearing it no more, he decided that it must have been a figment of his distasteful dreams.

He heard something else, however. Far away the voices of men were calling, but as he listened and wondered, the sounds grew more distant, became fainter, and died away.

Returning to his pillow, he settled down, seeking to compose himself, and praying that those rest-disturbing dreams might trouble him no more.

But thoughts of Hooker would not let him sleep, and presently something else brought him bolt upright on the bed, startled and wondering.

It was a clamor of bells, beginning with a peal from the steeple of the Methodist church down the street. The night air vibrated with the sounds, which seemed to pour in upon him through the partly opened window of his bedroom. Why were those church bells ringing at such an hour? He could distinguish the tones of the academy bell, as well. In a moment he knew it must be an alarm meant to arouse the town, and out of bed he sprang, catching his trousers up from the back of a chair and getting into them as quickly as he could, trembling slightly all the while with excitement.

Below he heard Mrs. Chester calling to the maid, and, opening the door of his room, her words came plainly to his ears:

"Sarah! Sarah! Get up quick! I'm frightened. There must be a big fire.

The bells are ringing."

"So that's it," muttered Osgood, hastening to a window. "There's a fire in the village. They sound the bells to give the alarm."

Looking from the window, he failed to observe any glow of light against the sky to indicate where the fire might be. Through a momentary lull of the bells, he fancied he heard some one shouting far away in town.

Surely some terrible thing had happened or was taking place.

Lighting a lamp, he rapidly finished dressing, and pulling on his turtle-neck sweater he grabbed up his cap.

As he bounded down the stairs, Mrs. Chester called to him from a partly opened door at the end of the hall:

"Where is it, Ned? Where's the fire?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I looked out, but I couldn't see any fire.

Don't be alarmed; it must be a long distance away, in another part of the village."

A man was running down the middle of the street as Osgood dashed from the house, slamming the door behind him. He called to the man, but received no answer. Then he took to the street and followed.

The bell in the Methodist steeple hammered and banged as he raced past the church. Lights were s.h.i.+ning everywhere from the windows of houses.

Men and boys came running from side streets, questioning one another excitedly without getting satisfactory answers.

There was a crowd in the village square, and, contrasted with the agitated people who came running to join it from every direction, it was strangely calm.

Ned grabbed some one by the arm, as he demanded:

"What is it? What's the matter? Why are they ringing the bells?"

He recognized Jack Nelson, as the person he had questioned turned to answer.

"It's Hooker!"

"Hooker!" choked Osgood, aghast.

A fearsome thought smote him. Hooker was dead! But why should they ring the bells in the middle of the night and bring all the people out?

"Yes," Nelson was saying, "Roy has disappeared. He was left, apparently asleep, and later, when some one looked into his room, he was gone."

"Great Scott!" breathed Ned. "I thought perhaps he was dead."

"Oh, no. In that case, it wouldn't be necessary to turn the whole village out. He's wandering around somewhere, half dressed and probably crazy. They're getting the people out to search for him."

"Is it necessary to turn out the whole town this way?"

"Perhaps so. They've tried to find him, but can't. Now they're asking everybody to join in the search. You see, there's no telling what the result may be if he's not found soon. In his dotty condition he may do himself harm; and, anyhow, with only a few clothes on, he's liable to get pneumonia."

Some of the men who had early learned the cause of the disturbance were now seen bringing lanterns, and in the midst of the gathering in the square, William Pickle, the deputy sheriff, was suggesting a plan of search, by which four parties should spread out in different directions.